Dark Tidings
by Seraphaguin
Summary: Tifa Lockhart was left alone when Cloud ran off to look for Aerith. As a passerby, Vincent offers to take her to the Forgotten Capital to look for Cloud, but who they find there is hardly who they expected. Rated M for later chapters to come. There will be citrus and violence. I rated this as horror... and it will be.     Note-It's 17 July 2012 and I am writing again.
1. Setting the Stage

Author's Note: This is my first effort at Fanfiction that I've ever had any intent to finish. Yadda yadda, I am not a member of Square Enix, I do not have legal rights to Final Fantasy of any sort. Kay?

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Light. Painful, obnoxious, bothersome light. His eyes burned and watered, and it roused him from whatever dark place he had been in moments before. But there were no walls, no windows, no soft bed, or familiar ceilings... only cold stone, and the acrid smell of ozone from a recent battle between monsters. Iron giants and dragons... even a few in eyeshot, yet here he was, waking up, mostly unharmed. Mostly. The stiffness and ache in his joints suggested a very long time laying there. But where was he?

Looking further into the cave where he woke, he saw a soft green glow, and ventured towards it. Rounding a corner, his eyes met with a brilliant river of shimmering emerald... Lifestream... and then, he noticed something was amiss. Hands moved quick, checking himself for injuries, making sure he was in one piece. Ten fingers, ten toes, one well built and still intact torso, two healthy, albeit sore and stiff legs, long silver hair, dreadfully knotted, and...dusty? With a swat, a cloud of dust fluffed out from his hair. He wandered back to where he had awoken in order to have a look around.

His eyes fell on his sword, the Masamune, and he was taken aback. It was covered in dust, and... was that _rust_ on the tsuba? Just how long had he been here? Lifting the weapon, he blew the dust off, and looked around. The saya was nearby, but in pieces... trampled by monsters. He would just have to get a new one. He turned towards the opening through which the offensive sunlight that roused him was peeking. Then, he met with a new foe... one he was not overly familiar with.

Uncertainty.

Jenova was not speaking. He searched his mind heavily for her, and when he found her, he was astounded. Fading... wounded... alone. The cells in his blood were all there were. Her body was gone. Destroyed, even on a cellular level. Trying to blink the haze from his head, he though hard about what happened... He remembered Cloud... rotten puppet that he was, felling him. The battle was in this place, the Northern Cave. He and his ragtag group of friends. Time had passed though, and Jenova had been active. He _did _still have living, breathing clones when the battle for the planet occurred, and perhaps they had something to do with the damage that Jenova had taken.

Perhaps one or two might still be around. First, however, he would need to find out just how much time had passed. Finding the tattered remnants of his cloak, he donned it and ventured outside, blinking tears from his eyes. The sun was much brighter than he remembered, but it was bitterly cold. Getting his bearings, he figured that the Forgotten Capital would be a good place to start.

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Tifa reclined in the lounge chair on her balcony, and gazed thoughtfully at the stars.

Cloud had been gone for over a week, and Barret had Denzel and Marlene for the next few weeks. The bar was closed this time of night, but she couldn't sleep. Alone, and wide awake, thinking about how alone she really was. She'd spent her entire life waiting on Cloud. Nibeheim, the Meteor Crisis, Deepground, and the recent attack from the three clones were all reasons for them to be together. Though all of those events put innocent people in danger, part of her hoped there would be more of them.

It made her feel guilty, dirty and selfish when she caught herself wishing for such things. She let out a heavy sigh, and tried to focus on the stars, hoping to clear her mind and just enjoy looking at something pretty.

"Tifa?" The call came softly from below. Leaning over the railing from the edge of her chair, she spotted the man below. Red headband, red mantle, raven hair, raven leather, and skin as pale as the moon. She offered a broken smile, and he immediately recognized it as such.

"Vincent, it's late. What are you doing out?"

"Walking. Are you alright?"

"Oh, yeah. It's just quiet here with everyone gone."

He opened his mouth to reply, then closed it, pausing.

"Considering it's so late, perhaps you would care to walk with me? I imagine we're disturbing your neighbors." She nodded affirmatively, offering a gesture to suggest that she'd be down in a moment. Stepping inside, she slipped on a pair of shoes, and shoved her keys into her pocket before just short of skipping out the door.

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It made him sick when she smiled. Not so much that he didn't want her to be happy, didn't want her to smile, but he'd grown used to a different smile from her. When they met and traveled together, even in the events of Deepground, her smile was honest and genuine. It made her glimmer with light. Her upbeat demeanor along with that honest smile was just short of infectious, but now... now, her smile was bitter lie. She was utterly miserable and he knew it, but she still smiled. If one compared pictures side by side of a smile six years ago when they traveled together the first time and a smile now, there would be no visible difference. But he could tell, and it bothered him.

"So.." her voice pulled his attention from her false smile. "You do this often?"

"Do what?"

"Walk around like this at night. Edge isn't a massively friendly city."

"Every night. Nobody really bothers me." He forced himself not to look at her. "Tifa?"

"Hmm?" She leaned forward slightly, trying to see his face as they walked. She clasped her hands behind her back while she broadened her steps to keep up.

"Have you heard from Cloud at all?" He regretted the question as soon as it left his mouth. She straightened in response, halting in her steps a moment before moving again.

"Nope. Didn't say he was leaving, and he won't answer his phone or respond to messages. Why, do you need something from him?"

"No." He didn't want to continue this arc of the conversation, but couldn't think immediately of something else to say. He felt awkward at her expectant silence, and fished around in his mind for something to say. "So what are _you_ doing up so late?"

"Oh, is it past my bedtime?" The words came from her with some amount of mirth, and she grinned broadly at him.

"I take this walk every night. Your building is always dark when I pass. I was concerned."

"Really? Oh... well, I was just stargazing."

"At 3am...?"

"Is it that late?" She put a hand to her mouth in mild surprise. "I guess I just lost track of time." He shot her a look that suggested she'd said something foolish.

"That is not like you."

"No, I suppose you're right. I guess it just bothers me how unstable Cloud still is. I thought, that after the Geostigma cured up, and he got his closure, that he would feel better. I guess I was wrong."

"His closure... I don't believe he accepted it. I think he still feels responsible."

"I imagine so." She sighed heavily, gazing wistfully upwards. "I wish... well... I wish that I didn't feel so jealous. I know I'll never be what she was. She was... perfect. It's not a wonder he's still so taken with her."

"Kind, maybe. Not perfect. You're kind." He didn't look at her when he said it. She might have taken it as a compliment, were it not for the solid, even tone in his voice. He continued. "You were very similar to each other. Perhaps..." He paused, as if searching for the words that would fit his meaning. "Perhaps he felt more attached to her, because she seemed less capable."

"Less capable?" She was a bit confused now. Aerith _had_ played an integral role in the saving of the world. How could she be less capable?

"She needed rescuing a lot. Needed help a lot. She was a sweet girl, but she couldn't do anything by herself. The one time she tried..." He stopped there. He knew better than to talk about her death. He didn't mean to talk bad about her, but the aim was to console Tifa.

"So are you saying that if I had been–" She halted. What an awful, whiney sounding things to voice... She backpedaled, hoping to save herself the loss of dignity that would come with finishing that statement. "Nevermind. It wasn't meant to be, me an him. Otherwise, it would have been." Instead of speaking in response, Vincent nodded. She put it simply, and well. He was satisfied enough that she didn't lead him to offer flattery to make her feel better, though he likely would have anyway. After a long pause, he spoke again.

"You want to travel again, do you?"

"What makes you say that?" Of course it was true, but she hadn't said it aloud.

"You only seem to display such despair when you're being forced to live a normal life. Perhaps some travel would be good for you."

"What did you have in mind?"

"Hmm?" He looked at her, almost surprised that she asked, as if suggesting they travel together. "Oh. Well, Aerith _was_ your best friend, was she not?"

"Yeah..." She gave him a suspicious look.

"And you would like to see Cloud happy again, do you not?"

"Yeah..."

"Why don't you go find him? Help him search?"

"I wouldn't even know where to start, Vincent."

"The Forgotten Capital sounds like a good place. He was spending some time there before Kadaj and his others decided to attack."

"I'm not sure I remember how to get there. I never did travel that way alone, you know."

"I know. But I do know how to get there, as it was where I was staying after the incidents with Deepground. I could take you there."

"Seriously?" She asked somewhat incredulously, not expecting an offer to travel with her. "You'd do that?"

"I don't see why not. Might be good for me too."

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Author's ending note: Review for me please. Offer some encouragement or tell me never to write fanfiction again, I don't care, but do tell me what you think.


	2. Preludes and Battles

The trip itself was fairly uneventful, but Tifa felt a distinct pang of sadness upon entering the city. It had been over five years since Aerith was killed here, but the setting itself, the unchanged smell of dust and energy and ancient, magical things stirred up lucid recollections of that awful event. Another thing, however, that hadn't changed, was the fact that fiends actively roamed the outer edges of the city. Unchecked as they were, there were swarms of them, and such swarms were converging on the pair with incredible speed. Before long, not only were Vincent and Tifa overwhelmed, but they had lost sight of each other in the process. They had been split up, and they would need to find each other later.

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* * *

Sephiroth took careful steps towards the conch-shaped building in the center, feeling far less at ease that he hoped. He was being watched, and for some reason, it made his skin crawl. He stepped carefully past the threshold of the archway, and quietly up the stairs, finding himself checking over his shoulder more than usual. When he reached the great hall, he instantly knew why, as he found himself facing someone familiar he really didn't want to see, and sensing a presence that though he longed for it, he wanted it's company even less. He took in a breath to speak, but before any words could escape, time had stopped. He was encased in crystal.

Hojo tilted his head sharply to the side, forcing a loud, sickly popping sound. He was alive only because of the experiments he'd done before he was defeated, if you could call his shadow of an existence "life." What little was left of Jenova had a tight grip on him, and he found himself no longer the puppeteer, but the puppet, and it was not a position he was fond of at all. He stared momentarily at the man he had just put in stasis... the man who was supposed to be dead, who was supposed to be Jenova's puppet. Hojo was puzzled. Sephiroth did not belong here at all, and the voice of Jenova was not supposed to be booming in the scientist's head.

"He will be here when we are finished. We must find Vincent."

"Why? That cur's no threat." He spat back at the voice.

"Oh, but he is. Besides, with Chaos awake, we may be able to sway him to our cause."

More than anything, he wanted to ask what that cause really was, but found himself slamming the Masamune into the stone in front of the crystal that imprisoned Sephiroth, enduring the despicable agony of holding the blade that was not his to hold, and exiting the building to begin a hunt for Vincent. He had an inkling that the former turk would find his way to the Forgotten Capital soon enough...

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Tifa found herself working into the center of the city, hoping to find a place where she could force the fiends attacking her to bottleneck, so that shit might be able to do more than just defend herself. She backed through the archway of a building and waited for the first of the monsters to come, but they stared hesitantly, and then fled. She stopped, looking behind her, to see if some scarier beastie had shown up, but it was only a large, dusty building with a stairwell that lead to the main hall. She remembered this building... They had stayed here the night Aerith died. She wasn't sure why she felt the need to look around, but she headed slowly up the stairs nonetheless. 

At the crest of the stairs, she froze. Plunged into the stone tile was the Masamune, and it stood almost like a triumphant little grave marker for the man cased in crystal behind it. She felt like her heart was turning to stone in her chest. Years of pent up grief and anger boiled up inside her, and suddenly, the dam burst. Eyes full of tears, her hands wrapped firmly around the hilt of the sword and yanked it from it's resting place. Never would she be able to explain the bloodlust that filled her in that moment, and before she could blink, she plunged it through the crystal, and through Sephiroth's chest.

That awful, shrill sound of shattering crystal did not have nearly the effect on her that the following sound had... a startled gasp coming from the man's lips, as his prison was broken, and he was wide awake, and in remarkable pain. A wild swing of his right arm caught her off guard, and he swatted her away as if she weighed nothing, though her hands did not easily let go of the blade in his chest. The agitation of the sword in his wound was enough to illicit a growl from him, as he pulled the offending thing from his body. He tossed it aside, in enough of a haze to not even realize it was his own blade. He had full intent to trade blows with this woman, even though he was losing blood rather quickly.

For a moment, she thought she might actually win, as he seemed sluggish, but it only took one solid hit from him to check her back into reality. He managed to swing in a jab that connected squarely with her temple, stunning her momentarily, but long enough for him to start to regenerate himself, and she would have far less luck fending him off afterwards. However, the smell of blood had attracted the attention of the monsters that had fled before, and they both stopped to pay attention to the thunderous sound of fiends charging up the stairs. A spar, he was fine for, but a horde of beasts would surly wear him down.

Without thinking, Tifa dashed to pick up the sword from where Sephiroth had discarded it, and she took this opportunity to lower the number of fiends attacking. Using the stairwell to her advantage, the sword would handle any that got past her kicks. Sephiroth blinked. He wasn't sure what exactly she was doing, but it was certainly giving him time to heal himself. All the while, his mind was filling with more questions... maddening questions. He had little desire to deal with hordes of fiends, and a great need to have some of his questions answered. Spotting a skylight, he turned, grabbed Tifa's arm, and bounded for the skylight, climbing to the roof, and leaping to the ground in a dead run before she could protest. He snatched his blade from her hand, and with a quick swish, flung the excess blood off, and put it in it's partial tsuka on his back.

He would find somewhere safe to question her, and it would not be here. Still breathless from fighting, she had little protest, and she could not pull free from his grasp. Fearing the worst, she planted her heels to slow him down, but this only incited him to pause long enough to yank her in front of him, and throw her over his shoulder before he took off again. She let out an indignant "Oof!" before she started pounding on his back, shouting something he couldn't really hear over the din from the monsters following them. He imagined it was something along the lines of "Put me down, you monster!" or "Slow down!" or "If you don't put me down right now, I'm going to (insert empty threat here)". But, either way, he just kept on going.

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* * *

Meanwhile, Vincent found himself headed eastward, and the beasts that followed him also suddenly fled, leaving him alone and confused. However, before he could start the search for Tifa, he heard a quiet voice from behind him.

"Hello, Mister Valentine."

Recognizing the voice, he spun, drawing the Death Penalty, and aiming it squarely at Hojo's grinning face.

"Been a few years. Seems you've gotten jumpier..." The madman's grin broadened.

"You should be dead." Vincent quipped in a very matter-of-fact tone.

"Oh. Still sensitive about that whore, Crescent?" He made an exaggerated, exasperated sound. "Oh, how you dwell on the past. You really should grow up."

Vincent felt very little need to respond with words, and merely fired, but Hojo was no longer in the bullet's path. Vincent felt a strike of incredible force, a knee, a club, he couldn't tell, but it was a fierce enough hit to his kidneys that it stunned him, and it was followed up with a pistol whip to Vincent's jaw. He didn't even see Hojo move, even with his own heightened senses. Chaos was muddled with confusion, and it was not helping Vincent keep his focus. Vincent swung a swift kick, trajectory based solely on instinct, and against his odds, he connected, meriting a grunt from Hojo.

The opportunity to regain himself didn't seem to help much, as a flurry of elbows and pistol grips connected with Vincent's head and neck, as he once again failed to see Hojo's advance. He felt flesh against the tip of the Death Penalty, and fired. Hojo jerked away and howled in a pained, angry protest, his gun hanging in his shaking left hand as blood poured down his arm. With an unreal speed, he switched the gun from his left hand to his right in an awkward, sloppy motion, raised it, and fired.

Vincent thought he'd been out of the way, as he saw the gun raise and he vaulted to the side, but the bullet connected center mass. He grunted, and fell to his knees, hoping Chaos would take over and heal him. Hojo was standing over him now, pistol trained at the crown of Vincent's head.

"You didn't really think you could beat me again, did you? You think I wouldn't be prepared? You think I'm a blathering moron?? Well maybe now I'll finish what I started. Chaos will be mine, and you... well..." He squeezed the trigger.

But at his feet, was not a dead or dying Vincent, it was a bloody spot of cobble. He looked around, and saw. Chaos. He was fleeing. Perhaps Vincent was too damaged for Chaos to fight? He wasn't sure, but Vincent would escape with his life today, and not a victor.

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Author's note: This chapter was a little tougher in implementation than I expected. Read and Review, please.


	3. Uncomfortable

Vincent was immediately unsettled when he woke.

He was in a bed... a narrow, stiff mattress with white sheets, and a curtain around it. He rubbed his face with his hand, and as soon as the haze cleared, he realized something was missing...

Actually, a few things were missing. Not only was he not wearing his gloves and headband, but there was no sleeve on his arm. No cloak, no shirt... he peeked under the sheets and found no clothing at all. Taught and firm torso was bandaged, and he still felt a little rough, but he was aware that he no longer had bullets in him. There was an instant of panic- a hospital... a lab? Had Hojo caught up to him? He looked around a moment, spotting a chair and some medical machinery, but not his things. He turned off his IV, pulled the needle from his arm and the leads from his chest, and prepared to rise, only to stumble a little, his head fuzzy. He grabbed the sheet to wrap around himself, but lost his balance again, bracing himself on the monitors that were now squealing their little alarms. The curtain slid back to reveal a nervous looking nurse wearing a surgical mask.

"S-sir? Doc-" She found her voice pinched off by a cold metal claw around her throat. Vincent pulled her in, placing his hand over her mouth. He sat down on the bed, more to keep from falling over.

"Please don't scream. I don't want to hurt you. If I release you, can we please just talk like people?" He received a brief nod in response, and removed his hands from her, them dashing downward to catch the sheet as it was falling off him. She turned and looked terrified for a moment, before blushing a little and turning away at his attractive nudity. He covered himself before speaking. "What is this place?"

"This is the clinic. You came tumbling out of the Sleeping Forest... gave the diggers a fright."

"Bone Village..." he said, more to himself than anyone else. "Where are my things?"

"Oh... they're in a box in the back. We were worried that you wouldn't wake."

"May I have them?"

"Sir, you don't want to go out there. It's dreadful."

"What? Why?"

"There's a terrible sickness that's come over us the last few days. It's safe in here, but the digging has all stopped. It struck us so suddenly, we just confined everyone to their homes."

"The last few- how long have I been here?"

"Sir, you came out of the forest six days ago. I must say that I'm surprised that you're alive... I didn't think anyone could survive with the wounds you had. It's a miracle." He scoffed a little.

"Well I appreciate your excellent care. I need my things. I'll pay you for your aid, and be on my way."

"Yes sir... I'll get them right away." She hurried out of his little nook, closing the curtain behind her. _Six days? I was unconscious for six days? What... oh no..._ His thoughts turned to Tifa. He had not gone to the Forgotten Capital alone. What if Hojo had her? That would be... no. Unacceptable. He couldn't imagine her subjected to a sort of torture like his own. He would have to find her, and he would need help...

the others won't be happy about this...

* * *

Not even a whole minute outside the city, Tifa had twisted from Sephiroth's grasp, but before she could even gain her footing, she was rewarded with a blow to the back of the head, knocking her unconscious. He lifted her back up with a sigh, but at least it meant he could reach the Modeoheim mountains in peace, and thus, a cave he found suitable for rest in silence. He moved in far enough to build a fire and keep warm, but was near enough to the entrance to not be choked out with smoke. He set her down near the fire, verified that she was alive, killed something to cook for food, roasted it, and was halfway through his own meal before speaking.

"You've pretended to be unconscious long enough. I have questions." One maroon eye opened and glanced sourly in his direction, closing again when she saw that he was looking at her. She had thought to roll away, display open defiance, but thought better of it. She knew it unwise to anger him, and merely hoped that she would be ignored long enough to come up with some sort of plan. He finished his food in silence, before looking at her with narrowed eyes.

"Woman, I may be feeling generous, but my patience is not without limits. Acknowledge me, or I will end you and move on." His tone was even, calm, and very matter-of-fact. She paused a moment before sitting up at glowering at him. She wore a scowl that let him recognize her. "Lockhart, right? Mountain guide and shadow of the puppet?"

"I have nothing to say to you." Her tone was biting, full of disdain.

"You will. As I said before, I have questions."

She just scowled at him in silence.

"Who are you?" His first question elicited a bark of laughter from her, brief, and entirely without mirth.

"I thought you knew. 'Mountain guide and shadow of _Cloud_?' We've met, and more than once." She enunciated Cloud's name, illustrating that she didn't like it when Sephiroth called him a puppet. He took a deep breath, trying to quell the urge to just kill her and be gone, but his desire for information was honest, and more powerful than his disdain.

"Perhaps I wasn't clear." He leaned towards her, and though there was about ten feet between them, she still leaned away instinctively. "Perhaps you don't appreciate the fact that you're alive, but the strangeness of it is not lost on me. You've taken my full assault and survived the experience, even bearing my mark." She put her hand to her chest, as if feeling the scar beneath her clothing. If her expression could have grown more disdainful, it would have. His velvety baritone voice continued. "You've wielded my own sword against me twice now. You swam into the Lifestream without being consumed by it, to save the puppet from certain death. These feats are unique. No one survives them."

"Cloud did."

"No, he didn't. He never once was able to wield my blade, and was being consumed by the Lifestream until you saved him. Even I was dispersed into it. The point is, you have done things that no else can do. Who are you?"

"I am Tifa Lockhart. I am a barmaid from Nibelheim. I am a trained martial artist, and Cloud's oldest friend. Nothing more, and nothing less." She was openly defying him, against her better judgment, but his questioning did make her wonder if the answer was in fact something more. Sephiroth couldn't help but think that she had crossed his path again for a reason. A part of him marveled at the fact that he could even ponder that it might mean something, and that he did not have Jenova to bark something like _Yes, she has crossed paths with you again because you haven't killed her. We should solve that problem._ He imagined she would say something like that, and Tifa lived for the moment solely because he wanted to be sure his mind was his own.

"Well, my dear, I suggest you make yourself comfortable. Eat something, if you like. I'm not finished with you." He sat back, before starting to clean his sword, practically not paying any attention to her at all. She stared incredulously for a moment, before her eyes turned toward the exit. She might be able to make it before he could get up... get a head start maybe. She didn't know how fast he could run, but he did have a longer stride than she did. She shifted to put a bit more distance between them, half watching for his attention. Maybe he didn't notice. Maybe she could get up and get a full stride or two before he saw that she had moved. As soon as both her palms touched the floor, not even hoisting herself to a position that might allow flight, he spoke, again even toned, his voice startling her.

"Dismiss those thoughts right away. I said I wasn't finished with you yet."

With a twitch, she shifted to a crouched position, adrenaline pulsing through her, overriding her good sense. Before she could rise and bolt for the exit, he was upon her- fingers snaking through her dark hair, and grasping firmly close to her scalp, offering him control of head. He pulled her to her feet.

"If my blade doesn't frighten you enough..." His free hand slid around her waist and pulled her tight to him, her resistance about as futile as moth in a jar. "...I will find _other_ ways to keep you in line." Tifa froze. He couldn't... he _wouldn't! _It was unthinkable! Her breath hitched in her throat, and she tensed completely in his grasp. She had already tried and failed to push away, her physical strength utterly no match for him. A shudder of sheer disgust slid through her as she found herself incapable of holding it back. He threw her aside, deeper into the cave, and went back to his seat to return to his task. Sephiroth pondered his threat to her. He hadn't bothered himself with such past times. He always had more important things to do. He was no virgin, but Jenova had done a wonderful job of suppressing his libido. The feel of her in his arms for the brief moment he held her made his pulse quicken. This could be disastrous...


	4. Discoveries and Recollections

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Reeve, please..." Vincent sighed into the phone. "I need help, and I am not tickled about calling Barret or Cid, and since I was out for so long, I fear Tifa may already be-" Reeve cut him off.

"Tifa's a big girl, Vincent. She'll be alright. I'll call the others and head up there. You just sit tight. Don't go running back into the fray without your back-up, okay?"

"I'll be patient. Wait..." He let the phone drift away his ear, not hearing Reeve's inquiries, as his enhanced senses caught a whiff of someone familiar, and he moved to investigate. After a few seconds, he lifted the phone up again. "Hold on." He dropped the phone from his ear again, stepping through the clinic to see a body- a man, wrapped in bandages on a hospital bed, missing the left leg below the knee and his right arm at the shoulder, with weeping wounds staining through the bandages all over his body. Vincent recoiled a little at the smell- infection. He stepped a little closer, and upon seeing those eyes... those bright, nearly glowing mako blue eyes... he lifted the phone to his ear one more time. "I'll call you back." He hung up, half way through Reeve's protest, before moving much closer.

"Cloud?"

* * *

Sephiroth grinned as he saw Cloud falling towards him with a scowl on his face and his sword in his hand. Sephiroth was ready for him, or so he thought, but the puppet... The puppet hit him with what must have been a dozen strikes. Sephiroth parried the first few, but then, hit after hit after hit wracked him with pain. He heard mother screaming at him- _Get up! Don't let that puppet defeat you! No! You are my son! You can't die like this!_

But still, he fell back, blood pouring from gashes in his flesh, into the glowing green of Lifestream. Swallowed... he was being swallowed! For the first time in years, he felt fear. He was terrified, defeated and tumbling into nothingness. Jenova was screaming in his mind not to give up, but it was too late. It hurt too bad. His heart was crumbling in his chest, heavy with the weight of his failure. Just as panic was beginning to set in, everything faded into the glittering green of the Lifestream, and then there was nothing.

Sephiroth woke with a start. He frowned and straightened himself up, having fallen asleep in a seated position. He tried for a moment to remember the last time he slept naturally and if it was always so unsettling, before his thoughts sped back to the moment. Sea foam green eyes scanned the cave... it was still. Too still. She fled while he slept, and this would not stand. He made an indistinct noise of exasperation before standing up and moving to the mouth of the cave. Her tracks were not old, not entirely covered yet by snow.

Tifa was not dressed for the weather. Light snow was not what made it miserable, but the biting winds. Her socks were damp from the snow, her feet so cold they ached.

_Ache is good. Ache means they still feel. Just... just gotta get some distance between me and that cave. Hopefully he sleeps long enough to let my tracks disappear, or that he decides I am not worth a pursuit in this weather. _

Her hips, quads and lungs all burned from the pace she was keeping. Six minutes, and she'd cleared almost a mile. She'd slipped once or twice and would be miserable in the morning, but the purpose of this was to have a morning. She had a monster or two chase her a short while, and had no idea which direction she was going, but she had to find something. After a few more minutes, she stumbled breathlessly to a halt, doubling over and resting her hands on her knees. Lifting her gaze as she aimed to stand again, Tifa frowned, offering an incredulous look to the man in front of her.

"You've gotta be kidding me." She couldn't quite wrap her head around how Sephiroth caught up to her. She saw no tracks other than her own. She had a running start of at least a couple of minutes, and she wasn't exactly slow moving. He was scowling darkly at her, and though she was not resigned to death, she was hardly energetic enough to fight. Arching a brow at him while still trying to catch her breath, she thought to buy herself some time.

"What do you-" Her speech was cut off by a hand around her throat that hoisted her off her feet.

"I said I wasn't finished with you. Did you honestly think that I would change my mind?"

"Kinda hoped so." She wheezed out. _Don't piss him off. You're not dead. Keep it that way. _

"Tch." His grip tightened around her throat, cutting off airflow for just a moment before he dropped her. She fell in an undignified heap at his feet, coughing and gasping for breath.

"Well my dear..." He said in a tone that was deadly calm, "I'm feeling generous, so I will give you a choice. You can walk back with me, or I can drag you back. We can certainly do this the hard way if you like."

"Is there an option 'C'?" _Idiot._ He shrugged, grabbed her hair close to her scalp firmly, and dragged her off balance, only taking a few steps before she piped up again. "Stop! I'll walk, I'll walk!" He did stop, releasing her on her ass in the snow. She rubbed the back of her head a moment, glaring daggers at him as she got to her feet, dusting the snow off of her. After a few meters she decided to finish her initial question.

"What do you want with me?"

"Honest answers to my questions." He replied honestly as he shifted to walk behind her. She rubbed the back of her head again. She frowned, not expecting his answer.

"This isn't about Cloud?" She asked, looking back at him.

"No." He maintained a lack of expression, gesturing for her to keep her eyes forward. "I'm a little curious as to his whereabouts, but I can't say that any of my current goals feature him." She blinked a few times, glancing back again, only to get the 'eyes front' gesture again.

"Oh... kay... Uhm..." She swallowed reflexively. "Ask away?" She didn't know it was possible for her to become more suspicious than before, but here she was, more suspicious than before.

"How long has it been since your group felled me in the Northern Crater?" Her pace slowed and he offered a shove to keep her moving while she pondered the answer.

"In the Northern Crater? Oh.. um... That was just a little over ten years ago."

"Hmm. Is there some sort of world crisis occurring now?"

She looked over her shoulder again, arching a brow before looking forward.

"Not that I know of. Why-" She stopped, finding it likely unwise to ask. He _was_ feeling generous. He was not irritated with her, as he expected to be.

"I am awake, after ten years in the Lifestream. There has to be a reason." She pondered a minute.

"Do you not remember manifesting through your remnant in Edge?"

"Edge?" He questioned, the name not ringing a bell.

"Eight years ago, you attacked Cloud in Edge." She clarified, feeling a little strange doing so.

"Tell me of this."

"But you-"

"Indulge me." And so, she did, nervously telling him the tale of Kadaj, Loz, and Yazoo attacking Edge, the conflict, the events. He mulled it over as she told and after she finished, slightly offended that it was thought that he could not be without Jenova, that the remnants he made believed they could ever amount to him. Most of his life, before madness gripped him in Nibelheim- before Jenova gripped him in Nibelheim, he gained fame and power and renown the world over by his own merit. Jenova was not the Demon of Wutai. He remembered being angry after his fall in the Northern Crater. He remembered the Meteor Crisis, as it was now called, with excellent clarity. He remembered feeling spiteful, not wanting to disperse into the Lifestream. He remembered his enmity, his desire to seek revenge, but more like remembering a dream.

He mused a while.

_I had forgotten everything. I know I had. I had given up my name, my face, so that I could remain. So that I could seek revenge. I had forgotten my mother- my real mother. I had forgotten Hojo, forgotten being a boy- forgotten where I honed my skills, and whom I honed them with. _

He felt a little ashamed for a moment. He had friends who had been close to him... who had been good to him for years. They had been dear to him at one point, and he had been so wrapped up in his anger that he was willing to forget them.

_Did Mother... did Jenova mean so much to me that her will, her anger superseded even my own desires? Did I even have desires of my own then? I was so willing to accept her goals... If everything is destroyed, then I have no power. I have superiority over nothing if all that exists is me. How did I rationalize destroying everything? I never wanted a lot of attention, and I used to be content defending the people against what would do them harm. I had friends. _

_Cloud said that his strength came from his friends. _

Sephiroth studied the woman walking in front of him, pondering this idea.

_That he could beat be because he wasn't alone. I wonder... I wonder how much this girl had to do with it? If I had never turned my back on my friends, then I probably would be in a place more to my liking. Was it Mother that made me change so? I... I need time. I need to know that my mind is my own. I need to know that my ambitions are my own. I need to know that I am not being manipulated. Perhaps this girl knows something... or is something that can help me. If it turns out that my ambition is still revenge then she gives me a running start anyway. I suppose I will just have to see how this turns out. Either way, I will glean benefit from this situation. _

A smirk crossed his lips as he shoved her along, causing her to stumble a little in the snow. When they reached the mouth of the cave, she chanced a look at him and was immediately unsettled by his expression. He offered a gesture of invitation to the cave, a dark smile gracing his features. Something flashed in his eyes when she hesitated, some sort of wordless threat, and she shuffled inside, glad to be out of the wind, but mortified at her company. He shooed her deeper into the cave and gestured for her to sit. Taking a seat himself in a position to block any possible retreat, he finally spoke.

"One way or another, you will teach me what you are, and you will teach me of the power you gave to Cloud."

"Why? What significance could it possibly hold for you?"

Sephiroth took a deep breath, more to choose his words than to calm himself. He decided to give her an honest answer.

"My memories are more... dreamlike than real to me. I am not sure if they will return in earnest or if they will stay muddy as they are. I remember my enmity. My disdain for Cloud- more so my disdain for how he interrupted Mother's ambitions. I search to discover how much of that enmity is my own, and what changed in me from when I was younger. I had people I cared about before I fell to the grip of madness, but their names are just out of my reach. I allowed nearly all my memories to depart from me while I was in the Lifestream..." he started to trail off. He glanced up at Tifa, who looked a little nervous, and a bit confused. "Do you want to know what I recall?"

Tifa worried her lower lip while she decided whether she wanted to know or not. His tone did not suggest relaxation, it was not particularly inviting, and she was ill at ease to know why he was even willing to tell her in the first place.

"Sure..." She said unsteadily.

"I have a clear memory of a young girl in brown leather with a matching hat to keep the sun from her eyes. I remember her nervous smile and her politeness when we first met. I remember her manner as she guided me and people I don't recall up a winding mountain trail to a reactor. I don't recall what I saw there, but I left unsettled. Hazy and a little unreal, I remember rage and sadness and something else broiling inside of me... I remember fire, I remember the path to the reactor. I remember turning at the top of the stairs at the sound of her calling my name, and running at me with my own sword in her hands. I cut her down. I was sure she was dead, and I moved on. I know that when I laid eyes on Mother... JENOVA... for the first time, it was not love or admiration I felt. I don't recall her face, or exactly what was in my heart at the time. I have vague annoyance at an interruption, and then another interruption. I fell, I think, thrown into the heart of the reactor by Cloud."

Tifa paled a little as he continued, her heart sinking at the memories of Nibelheim.

"I remember exposing Cloud's lies about his past to his friends, who I do not recall... and asking that same girl to confirm what I remembered. I remember a few skirmishes between me and Cloud and that girl and the others whose faces I cannot recall. I remember Cloud and that girl again and the others at the Northern Cave. She seemed so resolved there. My focus was not on her then, nor really was it ever. It was always on Cloud. I was pretty mad at him, and the details as to why are lost to me now, but I remember his face and his voice, and how he fought. I remember that he was angry at me, and I thought it was funny. I remember my defeat in the Northern Cave, and I remember being so angry... using that anger to hold on to some semblance of individuality in the Lifestream. I tried so hard to return and seek revenge... I remember being sure that Cloud's enmity for me would restore me, and I think it let me manifest, but I was defeated again... I never really got out of the Lifestream... until I woke in the Northern Cave as I am now. I know the Lifestream spoke to me. I know there is a reason that I live now, but it too seems just out of reach."

Tifa's skin was crawling now at his statement of recollections, silently wishing that she had said that she didn't want to know.

"Of all the people in my life, I remember you. I made no effort to do so, but when I saw you again in the Forgotten Capital, I recognized you. You were not the first person I saw who I recognized, but I knew you just the same."

The gears were visibly turning in Tifa's head, when questions began to appear.

"Wait... the Northern-... who was the first person you recognized?"

"Hojo." Sephiroth could not recall exactly who Hojo was to him, but the name and face existed in his memory.

"Hojo?" Tifa echoed, before her eyes widened and a hand went to her mouth. She felt sudden worry for Vincent. "Oh no... I left him behind..." Tifa stood, forgetting entirely about her surroundings and moved to pass Sephiroth for the exit. He rose to his feet and caught her by the elbow, shaking his head.

"Let me go. He'll do something horrible to Vincent, I just know it. I have to help him."

"Vincent...?"

"One of those faces you don't recall. He was with me in the Forgotten Capital. We got separated by monsters."

"My generosity has limits. I'm in no mood to cross paths with Hojo again, and I don't intend to just release you. It's been hours. I'm sure any fight they might have had is long over. I know I heard gunshots as we were leaving the city."

"But I can't just-"

"You can and you will. You'll stay put or I'll make you stay put. I'd rather not resort to violence to keep you here. I'm disinclined to kill you for the time being, but don't believe that I won't hurt you because I wish to learn things from you."

Tifa's blood ran cold as her eyes scanned his face, seeing the sincerity of the threat in his eyes. He steered her back to her prior position, with her back to a wall and him between her and the exit.


End file.
